Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicle
by Life Ravenwing
Summary: OK, this is a really short summary-better one inside. This is a series of one-shots, plot lines, drabbles, spoofs, parodies, etc. of our favorite Sarah Connor and classic Terminator characters! Please read the summary inside, it will all make sense then!
1. Warp

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Summary: This is a series of random things about the Sarah Connor Chronicles. Some will be one-shots, some will be two-shots, some will be full-fledged stories. They'll be thrown in intermittently with each other. New characters will be introduced, current characters will be used, and old favorites **might** be brought in. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own Terminator or Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles or its characters.

A/N 1.0.0.0: This is my first Terminator fic, so please please please be nice! Constructive criticism is appreciated though, and so are educated flames. Random shouting is not.

Warp—A One-Shot

Summary: Cameron tries to explain time travel to Sarah.

"…forty-eight…forty-nine…fifty!" Sarah Connor dropped from the playground bar, breathing deeply after finishing her daily fifty chin-ups. Cameron stood watching her, face expressionless as usual.

"You are very strong," the Terminator noted. Sarah brushed past her, mumbling a quick note of gratitude. Inside the house she poured herself a glass of water and opened a cabinet. There must have been twenty pill bottles. She took one of each into her mouth, washing them all down at the same time with an obnoxious gulp.

"That was loud," Cameron said. Sarah jumped slightly; she hadn't even noticed the girl come in the door.

"Loud is a human thing," Sarah said. "Not that you'd know about it."

"No," Cameron replied. "I do know loud. John taught it to me."

"Which John?" Sarah asked.

"Your current son," the machine said. "He taught me the burping and the shouting and…" She stopped for a moment. "Many other things."

"Lovely," Sarah said. She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, Cameron following suit. The house was silent. "Where's John?"

"He is studying for a test with his chemistry partner and his friend from the garage," she said. Sarah nodded, an awkward silence falling over the two of them.

"So…"

Cameron tilted her head slightly. In her mind, Sarah swore that Cameron could have been a camera zooming in her lens. She erased the image to avoid breaking into laughter.

"How does long distance time travel work?" Sarah asked, desperate for any subject. "What does it feel like?"

"It is bright," Cameron said. "There is a lot of energy and then you arrive at your destination without your clothing." She seemed to think for a moment. "John told me that being without clothing is embarrassing. I think I understand. But the time travel does not hurt me. I have heard that going for a long time, around forty years, will cause much pain to a human."

"This may sound strange, but what happens if you die in time travel?"

"I do not understand the question," the Terminator intoned. "It depends on the situation. Are you trying to infer that you wish to know what happened to Kyle Reese?" Sarah nodded. "It is much better to ask a question directly. I may answer it with error otherwise. If one is terminated in the past when they come from the future, simply their past self dies."

"I don't get it," Sarah said. "So if I was sent back to, say, 1982, and I was killed there, then myself in 1982 wouldn't die?"

"Correct," Cameron replied.

"But what if myself in 1982 was killed while me from 2007 was there?"

"Both would die," Cameron stated. "And if you in the past was killed before you gave birth to John, every John would die along with you, including the one in 2007."

"Okay, so if I was killed in the past after being sent back in time to the future and then the past after the present that I was sent from and I was killed there, and by that I mean present me, I wouldn't go poof in the past and future?" Sarah asked, barely understanding her own question.

"I do not understand," Cameron said. "What is this 'poof'?"

"Disappear," Sarah said.

"Thank you for explaining," Cameron said blankly. "You in the future would not die because only your present-future-past self had been killed, which was after the existence of your present-future and present self. You in the present until that point would not die. For example, you would not 'poof' from right here."

"But if…"

"I do not wish to answer any more questions," Cameron said. "Humans are very confusing, and I believe that you are only wishing to aggravate me. My CPU does not deal well with aggravation and confusion, and if I was pushed to a certain point, I may be forced to terminate you." She paused for a moment. "Machines are very touchy."

A/N: Good? Bad? Confusing? If it was the first and third, then I guess I did well. More updates will come later! Please review!

Till next time,

L.R


	2. Music

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: I do not own Terminator or Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles or its characters.

A/N: I hope that you liked the last chapter. This one is shorter and a bit more serious. **SPOILERS FOR EPISODE SIX: DUNGEONS & DRAGONS**

Music—One Shot

Summary: A continuation of Derek Reese's memory about the house where he and the other Resistance fighters were kept. This picks up from where Derek is about to be dragged into the room downstairs. Derek's POV.

He had never heard music before.

No, that wasn't actually true. He had heard Kyle whistle along with the other Resistance fighters. He had heard boots tapping out rhythms while their owners waited out shelling on the bases. Once or twice, he had heard a scratchy recording of the old American national anthem. But this was different.

Notes flowed like a river, pure and clean, bubbling and happy. This music was real and nearby, but he couldn't enjoy it fully. Dragged by the iron grip of a Terminator, he had been unchained from the floor and stumbled down the rickety stairs. Only when he had reached the bottom had he heard the music.

The Terminator was mute, only pressing him forwards until they stopped at a door. Seemingly by its own accord, it swung open. He grunted as he was shoved through the doorway, the door slamming behind him. He heard the heavy metal footsteps of the machine walk away from the door and he turned to look at his surroundings.

For one thing, the music was much louder, and seemed to be coming from inside the room. He couldn't see much, but he could make out the outlines of a piano against a wall from the occasional light of a plane through the window. Through one of these flashes, he saw the girl.

Though the light was bright, he couldn't make out anything much about her. She seemed to be about average height for a girl, maybe late teens to early twenties. Her hair fell neatly a quarter of the way down her back, but through the darkness he couldn't discern its color or the clothing that it covered. What really drew his attention were her hands. Her lower body sat still, but the rest of her flowed with the music, melding into the piano.

He had never heard anything so beautiful before, but he knew he had to get away. Shuffling backwards slowly, he grimaced and sat still at the creak of one of the floorboards. The music stopped.

"Derek Reese?" a young feminine voice called his name. "I have been expecting you." The girl did not turn from the piano, but she didn't need to. He knew what she was. Springing away from the machine, he ran towards the door, pulling on the handle. The door would not budge, as if it was welded shut.

"Please do not try to escape," the Terminator intoned. His heart pounded in his ears as he flattened himself against the wall, sidling along it to search for any way out. His fellow Resistance fighter had been brought to this room, only to come back claiming that he was some Andrew Goode, creator of SkyNet. He couldn't even imagine what would be done to him.

"Do you like music, Derek?" A new song began, sweet and sorrowful. He had to stop and listen, move closer to hear it better. He stepped forwards, ignoring the creaking of the floorboards as the music moved through him. "I do too. So that's something we have in common."

He found that he couldn't move. "Wha—what have you done to me?" he stammered. His hands could move, along with his mouth and eyes, but his feet were cemented to the ground.

"I haven't done anything, Derek," the girl said. "You just like music. Stay and listen for a bit. Nothing can hurt you here."

Had he been anyone but the suspicious soldier that he was, he could have been completely lost by this girl's calming words and beautiful piano. Even so, he was on the brink that he might spill any secrets to whoever could create such a beautiful and somehow familiar melody. Luckily, his mind still had control over his mouth.

"So, Derek, do you have anything that you would like to tell me?" she asked. He wanted to tell her about the Resistance, John Connor, the bases, lieutenants, and anything else. Years of training kicked in, and he kept his mouth shut.

"Nothing," he managed to spit out. The music spiked for a moment before returning to its calm melody.

"That's too bad," the girl said. "I thought we were getting along well. We have so many things in common."

"Not true," he muttered, sweat rolling down his face with effort. The notes grew louder and sweet, coaxing memories into his mind of his dead parents and family. He had to tell, he wanted to tell, but he couldn't. "You are metal. I…human."

"That's not a large difference," the Terminator said soothingly. "I'm human most of the way, and most of the time. I haven't killed many humans before. I was just created, and I'm just trying to learn the world. But do you know what we have in common, Derek? We both are trying to find our ways in the world."

A new piece began, one he had heard whistled by someone before. Or maybe it was sung? Had his mother sung that to him?

"You see, Derek, I'm just learning what I'm supposed to do, and I've found my place helping people. You have a brother, don't you, Derek? Kyle Reese? Yes, I know all about Kyle. Isn't he some big hero who escaped with John Connor, famous John Connor? Pretty big shoes to fill. I can help you, Derek. Just tell me what I want to know, and I'll make you better than the rest of them."

Oh, how she had seen into his soul. The little green monster of jealousy that sits in every person leapt up and danced a jig on his shoulder, begging him, ordering him to tell her, just so they could get what they wanted. But he couldn't. He refused the monster and the music, summoning all his strength.

"No!" he roared. The music stopped and all was silent for some time. He began to wonder if he had imagined all of this. But he felt a cold hand wrapping around his throat, and he was lifted up.

"I'm very sorry, Derek," the voice said. He stared into the girl's face, memorizing every feature, from her blank brown eyes to her waving brown hair. The expressionless face gazed up at him, and he remembered no more.

He had hoped that he would forget that room. He had almost managed to, but it was all brought back when he saw her, years later, or earlier, depending on how you looked at it. She was the same, he was sure of it, and she stood next to him with a needle in her hands.

The music played through his ears, and he thrashed and kicked, only to be quieted by another memory. She came with no music, but he still gave in. Anything to not go back to that basement.


	3. Set in Stone

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator or Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Wow, how many times do I have to write that?

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you all very very very much for reviewing! It brightened my day up. OK, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Soon, two long stories will be coming up, but remember, one-shots and parodies will keep coming intermittently! Please R&R! Also, if you guys have any ideas for something I should do, just put it in a review and I'll see if I can.

Set in Stone—A One-Shot

Summary: Sarah questions why they are even fighting. Sarah's POV. This is a bit more depressing and shorter than the last few. **SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 6: DUNGEONS & DRAGONS**

Time lag. That was what John had called it. Though we had been here for two weeks, I still didn't feel the same way. Colors were dull, sounds were blurred, and John was…different. I couldn't figure out why, so I did the same thing I always did to calm myself: I blamed the machine.

Cameron looked human, and to some, she even acted human. Around John, that was true, but around me…Charlie had called her a "very scary robot." At some times, I had to agree with him. I heard light footfalls and turned around from the window, interrupted from my musings.

"What do you want?" I snapped, glaring into the face of the Terminator. As usual, it was blank and unreadable as she looked back at me.

"John is troubled," she stated.

"What, did you scan him again?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I just could tell." For the first time, I thought I saw her smile. "You seem troubled too. As you said, 'genetics are a bitch.'"

How could she remember that? It must have been a week and a half ago…I could barely remember. What shocked me more was the way she said it. It was almost human. She looked away for a moment. In a human, a look of deep thought would have come over her.

"SkyNet can't be stopped," she commented lightly, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice.

"What?" I asked. This girl had just dropped a mental bomb on me, and she stood here, pulling herself a glass of OJ.

"SkyNet can't be stopped," she repeated.

"Why not?" I said.

"Because if you, John, or anyone else ever stopped it in the future, I would never be here. The T101 never would have come, and you would still be a waitress having little kids put ice cream down your apron. John would never have to be a Resistance fighter." She paused for a moment to sip her juice. "All of this never would have happened."

My head swam for a moment. Unfortunately, what Cameron said made too much sense. Perfect sense. If John and I ever stopped SkyNet, then that would mean none of this happened. If Cameron was here, standing right in front of me, we never stopped it. We never will.

I struggled to keep myself from falling to the floor, finding the only way that I could keep myself calm: get angry at the machine. I leapt forwards, pressing her against the refrigerator. Her glass of juice stayed in her hand, but for the first time, I saw shock on that face.

"What's the point, then?" I shouted. "What are we fighting for? The world will end, in four, twenty, fifty years! Why are we doing this?"

"For John," she said simply. "For hope. For strength. John was worried that you would act this way if you found out. He ordered me not to tell you."

I stepped back, releasing her. Her words somehow calmed me, though anger still surged to every point of my being. "If he ordered you, why—no, how did you tell me?"

"I have a mind of my own," Cameron said, placing her glass on the counter. "And I thought you should know. We'll fight for John, and we'll keep him alive. The future of the world is set in stone. John's isn't. He can still be killed, and then…" She swept out of the room, leaving me alone. I walked to the window, and stared out of it.

Time lag. That's what John had called it. I hoped, maybe, that this had all been a dream.

A/N: A little depressing, but I noticed this while watching T3. Please review, and remember, I'm open to ideas!


	4. Babysitter Chapter 1

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: You know the deal.

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing! Again, I take ideas, hints, criticism, but I like niceness! Here's the next chapter, hope you like it, but it needs some explaining.

Babysitter—Story—Comedy

Chapter One

Summary: Sarah must go away for a week, and leaves an old friend in charge. Guess who?

A/N 2: Well, I can't make everything be one shots. This is the first of at least two long stories that I will be writing. Chapters will come and go as I please, one shots will interrupt them, but they will always get put up at some point. Please review!

"You're going away for a week?" John said in disbelief. It was a Monday morning, and they were in the car on the way to school. Cameron sat behind him in the passenger side back seat, seemingly looking out the window. In truth, she was most likely recording everything they said.

"I'm sorry, John," Sarah said, sighing. "There's a lead in Mexico to do with SkyNet, and Derek and I have to check it out."

"Wait, you're taking Derek too?" he yelled. "Who's next, Cameron?"

"No," Sarah snapped. "She'll stay here with you."

"How will we get to school?" Cameron asked, turning away from the window to face them.

"You can take the Jeep," Sarah said. "I'm sure Tin Miss knows how to drive a stick-shift."

"I do," the Terminator replied.

"I trust that you two won't need a babysitter?" Sarah asked. John rolled his eyes.

"We're fine, Mom," he said, kissing her on the forehead and hopping out of the car. "Should we take the bus home?"

"Probably a good idea, unless you want to walk," she stated.

"Thank you," Cameron said as she walked out of the car behind John.

"Cameron, wait!" Sarah called. The machine turned around. "Take good care of him." She nodded and followed her fake brother into school.

"They could have told us that you need a bus pass," John whined for the sixth time as they kicked open the door. He ran in, throwing the key back in his pocket and pulling his sopping jacket off his head. "Stupid rain." Cameron came in behind him.

"Yes," she said. "Stupid rain." John opened the refrigerator, grabbing a Coke can and chugging it. "Stop."

"What?" he asked. "Something wrong with soda now?"

"I heard something," Cameron said as she brushed past him into the living room. "A floorboard creaked. And I smell burning."

"You're probably imagining it," John said. And then the sprinkler system went off. A loud alarm blared, and water rushed down on the two teens. John shouted and ran for his jacket, while Cameron stood still and emitted a strange hissing sound from between her teeth. The alarm stopped, and the water was gone as quickly as it had begun.

John pulled his once-again soaked jacket from his head and threw it on the floor. "What now?" he shouted. Suddenly, he stopped. He had heard a creak too. Cameron walked forwards, picking up a 9mm from a teak box on the mantle. Holding it at her side, she walked as a man possessed. John followed. As they rounded the corner into Sarah's bedroom, John gasped.

Everything was burned. Ceiling, floors, bed, still with fire clinging to the mantle. A large, extremely naked man crouched in a corner from which all the fire seemed to come. He stood up, and Cameron fired.

Empty brass flew from the back of the gun as round after round hit the man. The bullets bounced off his body, leaving small dents in his skin. John's protector methodically reached for a magazine from her pocket and reloaded the gun, about to begin her firing again. John leapt in front of the gun.

"Stop!" he shouted. Cameron's trigger finger relaxed.

"Do not do that," she said. "I might have shot you."

"Don't shoot," he said. "I know him."

"I'm back," a heavily accented Austrian voice said.

A/N 3: Guess who? I'm pretty sure you know. OK, this will continue eventually, hope you enjoy it! Please review, and reviews make chapters come up faster!


	5. First Kiss

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Disclaimer.

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing! I hope that you've liked the last few chapters; I know that they've been kind of confusing and strange. This one is a bit confusing. Please R&R!

First Kiss—One-Shot—Romance

Summary: John and Cameron discuss his romantic positions in the future. John's POV.

Chapter 1

"Hey Chery," John said, sliding into his normal chair. Chery Westin only acknowledged his existence with a slight nod. He placed his backpack on the table and waited. Their teacher, Mr. James was late. John couldn't help but worry; he had inherited it from his mother. But any extra time he had would give him more courage to ask her.

Two minutes later, he heard himself asking, "Hey Chery, wanna hang out some time?" Had he been any less tactful, he would have clapped his hands over his mouth and ran away. Instead, he waited for an answer, a slight sweat breaking out.

She was silent for a moment, as if he hadn't said anything. Slowly, she turned to John. "Didn't I tell you to walk away?" she asked.

"Well, that was then," he said hopefully. "It's a new day."

"By hang out, you mean like a date, right?" she said. He nodded. "Then no." She turned back around, leaving him speechless. He stammered for a moment before he was saved by the entrance of Mr. James.

Forty-five minutes later, Chery brushed past him out of the classroom. John stood outside of the door for a moment, brooding as his dark hair fell over his eyes.

"Is there something wrong?" Cameron stood in front of him, as concerned a look on her face as a machine could manage. "You seem upset."

"You couldn't understand," John muttered, turning away.

"Try me," she said. John couldn't believe his ears. Never before had Cameron sounded more human. He turned towards her.

"Well, I asked Chery out," he said, feeling his face go red. Why did he feel so uncomfortable telling her this? She was a machine; there was no reason why he should feel ashamed. A few thoughts came into his mind, but he knocked them out of the way.

"On a date?" Cameron asked, her voice strangely tight.

"Yeah," he said, feeling gleeful over the…jealousy that he believed she felt. No, no jealousy, it couldn't be. She couldn't feel jealous, no, it must be something in her throat.

"She refused," Cameron stated. Damn it. Why did she have to be so smart?

"Yeah," he repeated.

"In the future, no one would refuse you," Cameron said. In some way, it made it worse.

"Yeah, I have to be some great leader of mankind to get a date," John muttered. "What, let me guess, I don't even get kissed till the world blows up."

Cameron looked around for a moment before leaning forwards and placing her lips lightly on his. He felt as if he had been electrically shocked, but didn't push her away. She didn't move any closer to him, or do anything else. A few seconds later, she pulled back.

He could have shouted at her, asked her why she didn't think. They were supposed to be brother and sister, and that would have been way creepy if anyone had seen. But he didn't, because at this moment, he didn't care.

"You don't guess very well," Cameron said matter-of-factly.

"Di-did I order you to do that?" John asked.

"No," she said. "I just decided to." Without another word, Cameron swept away, her bag brushing lightly against his arm. He stood there for a few moments, fingers on his lips. He was awoken from his paralysis by the bell. Swearing quietly, he jogged through the halls to his next class.

A/N 2: Yeah, I had to do that at some point. And don't worry, no one saw them. Please review. I hope that you liked it!

Till next time,

L.R


	6. Dancer

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: Out, out, disclaim spot! —Lady Macbeth, _Macbeth_ by William Shakespeare

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing! This idea came to me while watching Joss Whedon's Firefly, which Summer Glau is also in (great show, go watch it!) So please R&R! Thanks!

Dancer—One-Shot—General/Spiritual

Summary: Cameron has heard the word dance many times, but doesn't know what it means. Through figuring it out, she may figure out why she is here and what she is meant for. Cameron's POV.

"She always did like to dance." –Simon Tam, _Firefly_

She sat in the ballet studio. It couldn't really be said that she sat inside, as she sat in the hole that a T910 had blasted in the wall. It was just large enough for her to squat in comfortably enough as she surveyed the wreckage. In front of her was the wasted T910. It could be said for the record that shocking something with electric cables and then driving a wall bar through its head always worked.

But it wasn't the T910 that drew her attention. She clambered out of her hole, walking over to a large piece of the mirror that had fallen. It seemed to be moving. Removing her 9mm from its holster, she lifted the shard with one hand to reveal a little girl of about eight years.

She was bleeding from a large cut on her leg, dying her pink tutu crimson. She also had a gunshot wound on the left side of her stomach. Cameron calculated a .00001 chance of survival. The girl had been trying to move aside the mirror, but as soon as Cameron had thrown it away, she had stopped wriggling. Now, she began to scream, staring at the gun in the young woman's hand.

"Please do not scream," Cameron said, holstering the gun and picking up the young girl. She began to writhe in Cameron's arms, clawing and kicking. "Do not move. Moving will only cause the blood loss to be greater. Don't move!" She gave the girl a jerk, and a sharp crack was heard. The girl stopped moving.

Cameron knelt, placing her on the filthy wooden floor. Half an hour ago, she had watched happy girls in pink leotards dance around on a shiny floor in front of a mirror. Twenty-nine minutes and six seconds ago, she had seen the door blown open by a T910. Twenty-nine minutes ago, she had seen all the girls thrown apart and slaughtered, until twenty-six minutes and seventeen seconds ago the T910 had been deactivated.

Cameron didn't handle a crisis in the way humans did. Instead, she calculated. But this was different. She stared at the young girl, dried blood forming on her arms, legs, and clothing. She didn't cry, though. "You don't always cry when you're sad," Cameron murmured, remembering John's words. Instead, she knelt and examined the young girl.

A glimmer on her neck caught the Terminator's attention. A grimy necklace lay on the crooked neck. Cameron broke the chain, grabbing the pendant and removing the debris and blood with her thumb. She read a single word in fancy cursive: Dancer. She had just killed Dancer.

"People who dance can't dance around a point. That's a job left for lawyers and politicians." –Anonymous

…and the square root of x is equal to ½ y squared. We just figured out that y is equal to 7, so that makes x…anyone?" Cameron watched the boy next to her fiddle with his pencil, a chewed, eraser-less writing utensil. The rest of her math class turned to their papers to work out the problem, but it only took Cameron 1.058 seconds to solve it. She raised her hand.

"Yes, Cameron?"

"X is equal to 600.25," she said. The teacher stared at her for a second.

"That…is correct," he said. "Good job, and very quick. Now, on to the next problem…"

As the bell rang, Cameron packed her bag up and began to follow her fellow students out of the room. "Cameron?" the teacher said. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" Cameron nodded and slid into the seat at the front of his desk.

"Cameron," Mr. Phelps said. "You're very good at math."

"Yes," she said, blinking lightly.

"Were you in an honors program at your other school?"

"Yes," she said, tilting her head to one side. "I was in an honors program."

"Well," he said. "I guess I have a question and a favor to ask of you." The teacher sat down in the chair opposite Cameron. "First of all, your brother, John? I have him in another of my classes. He seems to be…too busy to do his homework." Mr. Phelps opened a drawer in his desk as he talked. "Next time, Cameron, make him do his own homework." He slid a piece of paper across the table. Cameron examined it. It was John's math homework, written in her handwriting.

"I will," Cameron promised.

"Great, now," Phelps said. "Do you get along well with the other kids? Because, at least in this class, it doesn't seem like you talk to many of them."

"I have no reason to," Cameron said with a light shrug. "Many of them do not understand what I am talking about most of the time. The boy next to me tried to start a conversation, but we didn't get along well."

"Hm. Well, I guess that's it. Thank you, Cameron." Cameron stood up, studying Mr. Phelps' face for a moment. She turned and opened the door, walking out with a last glance.

Back at the house, she turned to John, her research for all behavior human. "What do humans say to describe when someone is trying to say something in a circuitous manner?" Cameron asked. "I am sure there is some sort of abbreviation."

John dropped his spoonful of cornflakes. "Um," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. "I guess that person could be inferring or trying to make you guess or dancing around the point or…"

"Dancing around the point? How can you dance around a sentence?"

John shrugged, grinning. "Well, I guess the dancing isn't always literal, Cam," he said. "Trust me, I don't understand the saying either."

"Thank you for explaining," Cameron said.

"No prob," John called after her as she left the room.

Dancing around the point. Cameron reached into her pocket and pulled out the grimy pendant. Dancer. Two dancers now.

"It's a point in time where machines become so smart that they're capable of making even smarter versions of themselves without our help. That's pretty much the time that we can kiss our asses goodbye…" –John Connor, _Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles_

"Let's go," she ordered, pulling John up from his hiding spot under the Jeep. He jumped up and they ran side by side to a pile of scrap metal that was once a car. She threw him down behind it and pulled the .22 pistol up. She would have preferred something with larger firepower, but it was all she had left.

Cameron surveyed the area, a scorched and marred soccer field, covered with the remains of cars and other heavy objects. It seemed as if two gods had been at play here and had gotten into an argument with themselves. But this time, these gods were metal. The coast seemed clear and she pulled herself out from behind the wrecked car. Her carelessness was rewarded with two bullets in her left shoulder.

She dropped to the ground, rolling to the side to avoid a stream of bullets flying at her. When they paused, Cameron pulled up into a kneeling position and let loose her rounds in the general direction that the other shots had come from. She couldn't be sure whether any of them had hit her target: too much dust floated in the air.

Jogging across the field, gun in a forward position, she analyzed her surroundings, more carefully this time. She couldn't see anything and moved forward through the dust. Once she was halfway through, she realized it had been a trap. The silence was broken with John's cry for her.

Cameron retraced her steps to see the T1000 lumbering towards John. She released a few bullets into the back of his head to grab his attention. By now, he stood about halfway between her and John. It would be a long distance to travel. A shotgun was in one of his hands, her 9mm in his other. He began to fire.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. She dodged and ducked each bullet, sure of her mission to protect John. One whizzed by her noise; she dropped backwards, only to fall to the ground in a somersault to avoid another. In an area of pause, she would fire back at the machine, only to spring forwards to avoid another.

Her nimble steps led her to John, and once she had dropped his face into the dirt for his own safety, she grabbed a metal disk that was once a hubcap. To avoid another stream of bullets, she lunged forward into a somersault, coming up in a leap, finally landing in a kneeling position twenty yards from the other Terminator. She threw it as a discus, relishing the sound of short-circuiting wires as she walked towards John.

The decapitated head of the T1000 hit the ground with a thud, the body soon following. John watched in amazement, but Cameron only smiled as she led him away. She finally understood it now. She was dancer.

A/N 2: Yeah, I know it was long and strange and you probably all hated it and are currently yelling: "Get back to what you were doing before!" But please still review…thanks! And remember, more reviewsmore chapters.

A/N 3: I'm pretty sure that the math is correct…depends on how you do it. Never said I was good at math.


	7. Different

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: I wash my hands of this business!

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing! Here I start a series of short stories, this one focusing on my favorite SCC character, Cameron. This is a lot of her thoughts on what's happened so far.

Different—Story—Romance/Family

Summary: Cameron and John have lived through the past and Judgment Day. This is their story in the future, as Cameron remembers them from the past. This takes place in the future, with some parts in the past. Cameron's POV.

A/N 2: OK, this is kind of confusing. This is Cameron years after future John sent her from the past. By this point, past and future John have basically melded, so this is future John with all of past John's memories and feelings about Cameron, but also with the kick-&& leadership skills.

Chapter 1

"You seem…different," John said as he stared at me from the back of the truck. In response, I reached into the bag of chips, popping one into my mouth.

"I am," I said, turning away and getting into the truck.

"Cameron!" My CPU rebooted at the sound of that familiar voice. "Cam!"

"Over here, John!" I shouted, throwing a piece of metal off my body.

John Connor ran over to where I lay, throwing heavy pieces of debris away from me. "Can I help you with that?" he asked sarcastically. I glared at him, tossing away the last piece and hopping up.

"Are you injured at all?" I asked him, scanning his body and locating a large cut on his right arm.

"Nope," he lied. "Cam!" I grabbed his arm and ripped off the lower part of the filthy shirt arm.

"Getting taken care of by your mother again, Connor?" Kyle Reese jogged over, grinning.

"Shut up, Reese," John growled. I poked the cut, examining it more closely for infection. "Ow!" The six other Resistance fighters laughed.

"No danger of infection," I said, releasing John's arm. "How'd that happen?"

"T-888," John said, rubbing his arm. "Got me with a razor."

"What, they carrying swords now?" Derek Reese asked, sauntering over to stand next to his brother. "Tin Miss, how come you didn't tell us about this?"

I turned to Derek. "Because I didn't know about it," I snapped. "They wiped my memory when I was reprogrammed, remember?"

"Terminators wouldn't need to use swords anyway," John said, coming to my rescue. "They've got guns." He paused to look around at the debris surrounding our latest attack. "Well, we got one section of the factory down. Cam, can you scan it for any deactivated Terminators?"

"One step ahead of you," I said, already halfway through the scan. "No. We blew them all up this time." Derek and Kyle slapped hands.

"That's not good," John said sternly.

"Why not?" Derek asked. Derek was a well-known hater of Terminators, believing that even reprogrammed ones like me couldn't be trusted.

"We need all the power we can get," John said. "A reprogrammed Terminator is worth five human soldiers."

"John's right," I said.

"Of course you'd say that," Derek muttered.

"Derek!" Kyle said in a reprimanding tone.

"And stop following me around like that," John said. "You're supposed to be my sister." I took in this information, accessing my databases in sisterly behavior. I was supposed to be his bodyguard, not his sister. But if he said it, I had to follow. Acting sisterly would be hard. Although John was younger now, I still saw pieces of future John in him, my John.

Sighing, I followed him to the metal detectors. This would be a tough day.

"I need to sleep," John complained, resting his head in his hands. "All this work is going to drive me crazy."

We were back in his study after the mission. As it was successful, we had been greeted with cheers and congratulations. I was treated as a human by most, except radicals such as Derek. Most Resistance fighters didn't even know what I was, and those that did, didn't care.

I sat perched on John's crude metal desk, flipping through maps and reports. John had been doing the same for the past three hours, and I had come in to help. He had tried to shoo me out for a few minutes, eventually giving up as I had matter-of-factly grabbed the report from his hand and finished it for him.

"Oh, right," I said sarcastically. "Because it's so hard to be the celebrated hero of the Resistance, people clinging to your every world."

"And it's so much harder to be a hero's girlfriend?" John quipped, standing up to kiss me lightly.

"Well, it is," I said as he sat down. "First thing I had to do was learn emotions. That took a few years. Then I had to learn kissing, which took…three days."

"Three days?" John asked. "You're a damn good kisser for a three day learner."

"Oh, I practiced," I said breezily.

"On who?" John said, bristling visibly.

"Kyle, Billy," I replied, placing down my reports. "And it is tough."

"Oh c'mon," John said. "Your life is so less weirder than mine."

"Not at all."

"I am the leader of the Resistance of humans against Terminators!" John exclaimed. "My job is to lead people everyday! All you have to do is fight! I have to plan, fight, explain…"

"John," I said, giving him the blank Terminator look. "I am a Terminator highly ranked in the Resistance against Terminators, dating John Connor, leader of the Resistance and well-known Terminator hater. My life is pretty fucked up."

He was silent for a moment. "We'll put it to a vote later," he muttered. I laughed, giving him a light kiss on the forehead before returning to the reports.

"He's a scary robot," I said. Charlie Dixon stared at me, fear on his face.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Well, then you're a very scary robot." I dropped the synth-bloody knife I had been cleaning and cocked my head to one side. He sighed and walked out of the garage.

"Very scary robot," I murmured to myself. I lit the chemical mixture, watching my fellow Terminator dissolve. Moving aside a cloth, I revealed the CPU from the destroyed robot. Staring at it for a moment, I grinned.

A/N 3: Good? Bad? Pretty please tell me, I love to learn and know. Please review! Thanks!


	8. Babysitter Chapter 2

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: buhdabuhdabuhdabuhda! Sing the happy disclaiming SONGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!

A/N: Yeah…about the disclaimer, just trying to keep things creative. So thanks all for reviewing : ) I have no idea what I'm going to write in this chapter, so it might be kind of weird…but enjoy! Thanks to my beta reader Alhaeron!

Babysitter

Summary: Sarah must go away for a week, and leaves an old friend in charge. Guess who?

Chapter 2

"You know this man?" Cameron asked. She stared up and down the machine with a cold eye before turning back to John.

"Yes," he said, still standing between her and the Terminator.

"Do you know that he is a Terminator?"

"No, Cam," John replied sarcastically. "He was my ballet instructor when I was five." Cameron tilted her head. "Of course I do!"

"Oh," she said. "Thank you for explaining." She turned to the large machine, who seemed to be an extremely muscular bodybuilder. "Do you have a name?"

"No."

"Model number?"

"T101," he said, voice deep and level. Cameron snickered.

"Do you even know how obsolete you are?" she asked. John stepped away so the two could regard each other, glaring at Cameron.

"He's taken down a T1000 and a TX before," John said.

"That's impossible," Cameron said blankly. "No model as early as a T101 could do that." She shook her head for a moment. "Alright, what is your mission?"

The machine was mute for a moment as he stared at John before turning back to Cameron. "My mission is to not answer to back-talky machines," he said without twitching an eyebrow. It was John's turn to laugh. "I answer mainly to John Connor. He sent me back to…baby-sit you."

"What?" the teens chorused.

"But that's--"

"C'mon—"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of John by my—"

"I don't need to be taken care of, Cam!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Silence!" The T101's roar broke up the catfight. "I was sent back to protect you and assist Cameron in her mission for this week. John Connor received intelligence that a T1000 may have been sent back to try and kill John again."

"If it didn't work the first time, why would SkyNet try it again?" Cameron asked.

"I am not SkyNet," the Terminator answered. "It must have something planned, and I am here to prevent it in case you are incapable."

"Well," John said. "I guess we're one big…" He glanced between Cameron and the T101, where it seemed static electricity was flying. "…happy family?"

"Yes," Cameron said. "Happy."

"The first thing to do is to get him some clothes," John ordered. "Cam, can you take care of that?"

The female Terminator nodded and marched out of the room.

"Why did you come back?" John asked. "Why did I send you?" Emotions were battling in his body until one eventually won him over. "It's great to see you!"

"Come back?" the T101 said. "I have never met you in the past before, John Connor. That was a previous model."

"What do you mean?"

"We come off an assembly line," the Terminator explained. "I am one of many T101s who look exactly the same. I have no memories of you or anything in this time period. I only know what I was reprogrammed to know and what John Connor told me."

"Oh," John said, sitting down on the burned bed. "Oh! Damn it!" He glanced around the room, remembering the damage for the first time. "Cameron!"

Cameron's head popped around the corner. "Yes?"

"Look at the room!" John exclaimed.

"Oh, yes," she said after glancing around. "Quite some damage done. We shall need to clean up."

Stepping out from around the wall, she thrust a pile of clothes at the T101. "Here," she said. "Try those on."

The clothes were much larger than any of John's, fitting the machine's body almost perfectly. "Where did you get these?" John asked.

"Next door neighbor's house," Cameron said. "They are on vacation. I'm sure they won't notice the broken window."

John sighed deeply, and turned to the Terminator once he was dressed. "OK, so now I have two terminators protecting me?"

"Correct," they said at the same time.

"And a T1000 coming after me?"

"Correct."

"So what's the problem?" he asked. "T101's taken out a T1000 before, and Cam…well, none of us have any clue what model you are."

"I was ordered not to reveal that," Cameron said. "It might jeopardize the mission."

"I have never taken out a T1000 before," the T101 objected. "As I said, that was a previous model."

"Yeah, but it proves that T101s are capable of taking out T1000s," John said, voice tired. "God, just one of you guys can tire me out after a few minutes. Now I have to deal with two of you."

"I apologize for the inconvenience," Cameron said shortly.

"Alright, whatever," John said, waving a hand. "We can't call him T101 in public…give him a name, maybe?"

Cameron seemed to think for a moment. "Bruno," she said.

"Bruno?" John asked in disgust.

"Bruno," she repeated. "It's Austrian, and that's where he sounds like he's from. What, did you want to call him Chet?"

"Fine, Cam," he said. "Bruno it is."

The newly christened Bruno had already left the room, but came running back in, grabbing John by the back of his shirt. "We have to go," he said. "Now."

"What is it?" Cameron asked.

"The T1000," Bruno said. "It's here."

A/N 2: Duh duh daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Yeah, I know Bruno's a dumb name, but my sister and I thought it would fit him. Chet is an inside joke. Hope you liked that chapter, please review! Thanks!


	9. Through the Looking Glass

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: Disclaimed to the seventeenth power!

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing. This chapter is another Cameron/John one-shot. Hope you enjoy it!

A/N: OK, yeah, I know I haven't done anything in forever. I just found I had 3 chapters I had never put up. All takes place in the first season. Please review.

Through the Looking Glass—One-shot—Romance/Drama

Summary: John sends Cameron to the past, but what does she think about it? Cameron's POV.

"Hey robot." The resistance fighter glared at me from a distance where he was sure I wouldn't lash out at him. I placed down the book I had been contemplating. I couldn't exactly call it reading, because I hadn't been paying any attention. My CPU held every word of this famous story, Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew.

"Robot!"

"Yes?" I said, turning towards him. I tilted my head to the side as I always did when I focused on somebody. He seemed disturbed.

"Connor wants you," he said sharply. I stood up. "And stop that focusing thing, it's really creepy."

"I'll make sure of that," I said, following him as he walked out of the reprogramming station. After a shelling attempt on the main Resistance base, walls had been damaged. A trickle of water that drew my attention came through a cracked wall, and damaged pipes dribbled unknown sludge onto the floor. The lights flickered in the already shady tunnel. I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked, not wanting to get my boots dirty. I smiled. Cleanliness was a human worry, and I wasn't in the least human.

"You coming?" the soldier snapped as I walked past the door where he had stopped. I swiveled around to face him as he opened the door.

"Thank you," I said. The door closed behind me.

"Come closer, Cameron." John Connor's tired voice drew me towards him to sit on the metal desk that he worked at.

"What's up, John?" I asked. He chuckled, looking up from some maps to stare at me.

"Who taught you that one?" he said. "That's a human greeting."

"Well, you wanted me to learn to become more human," I replied, inching forwards on the desk and leaning down towards his face, my hair falling near to his eyes. "I listen. I learn how humans talk to each other, and how they behave."

He laughed again, reaching up a hand to stroke the side of my face. "Sometimes I forget that you aren't," he murmured. At the touch of his hand, I pulled back to sit up.

"That leads to the kissing," I stated.

"What?"

"That leads to the kissing. As I said, I have observed human behavior. The male will stroke the woman's face, and then they will lean in and their lips will touch. It is called kissing."

"Cam, I know what kissing is," John said. "Have you been...watching people kiss?"

"I have observed it," I replied. "Yes. And I tried it."

"Cameron!" John said. "Who was it?"

"One of the younger recruits," I said carelessly. "I didn't know his name. It was strange in a way. Are tongues supposed to be involved? I couldn't tell."

John groaned, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "Maybe you are becoming human," he said. "Not caring who you're kissing as long as you are." He paused for a moment, looking up into my eyes. "What was that about tongues?"

"I couldn't tell," I repeated. "He stuck his tongue into my mouth, and placed his hands on my waist. I wasn't sure what to do, so I mimicked him, except for the waist placing."

John sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Cam, stay away from the kissing. Next thing you know, these guys will be coming after you. They might think you're human."

I stared blankly at him. "And what would be wrong with that?" I asked. "Isn't that my mission? To act human? Though you never told me why I had to learn to be human…"

"Yes," he said. "And that's why I brought you here today." He stood up and walked to a small window that showed the time ports right outside his office. "I'm sending you away, Cameron."

"What?" I said in disbelief. "You reprogrammed me, John. Am I not supposed to stay here and protect you?" A strange feeling surged through me…was it what humans called emotions?

"Cam, I reprogrammed you for this mission," John explained. "I need you to protect me…but not here. Me in the past. 1997 to be precise."

"1997?" I asked. "What is so special about 1997?"

"I recently received intelligence that Sky Net sent back a Terminator to eliminate John Connor in that year," he replied. "I need you to go back and protect him…me."

I felt…hurt. That's what the women who had been left by their men called it. Hurt. Pain that you felt when you were betrayed. Not physical pain, but…

"I understand," I said blankly. "I'll go, John."

"Thanks, Cam," he said. "And I am sorry." I stared at him for a moment, memorizing his face before I left. I turned and walked to the door. "Wait a sec!"

I turned around to see him jogging towards me. "What?" I asked.

He put his hand on my waist and drew me closer. I could feel his heart beating faster as he placed his lips on mine and drew me into the kiss. After a few seconds, I pushed him back.

"I can't, John," I said. It was his turn to look hurt and confused. "I'm not human, and there's no way that I will ever be. I'm a machine, a Terminator. I was programmed to kill, not to kiss. I'm sorry, but you are human, and must be with a human."

I pushed open the door without another word and walked into the time port chamber. Stepping into a pod, I looked up at John's window for one last time. He wasn't looking out. I sighed and waited for the flash of light. As it came, I looked up and saw him staring down at me.

A/N 2: OK, you guys are probably getting sick of this John/Cameron sappy crap. Sorry, I will write another chapter to Babysitter or something else, I'll figure it out. Please review! Thanks.


	10. Him: Part 1

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Chronicles

Disclaimer: Yeah, no repeat of last time…you get the point.

A/N: Once again, no clue what I'm writing, but this will hopefully make more sense as it goes along. I came up with the idea while watching BTVS' episode 'Him.' So maybe this will work out…please?

Him—Four-Shot—Comedy/Romance

Summary: After his refusal by Chery, Cameron offers John a strange device. This takes place after First Kiss, so I hope that you've read that.

Part 1

"I still say that I'll never get a date," John said as he slammed the door behind him. Cameron simply raised her eyebrow in response.

"What's happened now?" Sarah asked, placing down the newspaper as she walked into the room.

"John was refused by Chery, his lab partner, on an offer for a date," Cameron said.

"What?" Sarah said incredulously. "John, I thought we agreed to stay under the radar."

"Now I can't date?" John exclaimed. "How is going out with a girl not under the radar?"

"I know how high school works," Sarah said, sighing. "Rumors. They'll spread, and eventually someone who we don't want to hear about you will."

John exasperatedly threw down his backpack and stormed to the fridge. "C'mon, Mom," he said. "Not asking anyone out will get me on the radar." He pulled out a Coke and popped it open, taking a long sip.

"He is correct," Cameron said, standing next to John. "If he didn't ask any girls out, he would be accused of being a homosexual. That would get him on the radar."

"That's how it works nowadays?" Sarah asked. "You make me feel old."

"I got homework," John said, throwing the empty can into the trashcan and picking up his bag. He walked to his room, Cameron following to her own. For the next few hours, sadists called teachers who wished to torture him in the name of knowledge distracted John.

"You seem troubled."

He jumped, dropping his pencil to the floor. "Jeez, Cam," he said. "You walk quietly." He bent down onto the ground to pick the writing utensil up, and hadn't noticed Cameron had followed suit until her hair brushed his cheek. She sat up and handed him the pencil.

"Thanks," he muttered, sitting up on his bed. Cameron sat down also, and he noticed the strange box in her hands. "What's that?"

"John said you had to learn," Cameron said. She opened the box, revealing what looked like a high-tech watch. "He said that you would make mistakes about girls and do many stupid things if you didn't learn."

"What is it?" John asked.

"It's a hormone inducer," Cameron said. "It causes any female to fall in love with the male wearing it."

"When…and why did they invent these?" John said.

"John did," she replied. "For you."

He took the watch from the box and examined it for a few moments. "Would it work on you?" he asked.

"I do not know," Cameron said. "Why do you care?"

"Nothin'," John said. "Cool, well, thanks, I guess."

"You are welcome," Cameron said as she walked out of the room. John watched her go until he regained control of his teenage boy brain.

Placing the watch on his wrist, he checked the clock on his bedside table. 1:03 AM. "Crap," he murmured. For a few minutes, he managed to continue his homework, but would wake up on it the next morning.

A/N 2: Yeah, I know that nothing really happened in that chapter, but its setting everything up. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!


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